


Wonder

by elareine



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Fluff, Groping, Identity Reveal, M/M, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Secret Identity, Sexual Harassment, Wayne Gala (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21806104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine
Summary: Officer Grayson and the Batman had been unofficial partners for years. Then Dick found a golden envelope on his desk.“An invitation to a Wayne gala?” Dick was incredulous. “And it’s tonight?”“Yeah, Wayne does that.” Maeve shrugged. “When there’re spots to fill he invites the officers that have been most involved in the community, or something. Someone must’ve put in a good word for you.”
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 423
Collections: Robin Christmas Exchange 2019





	Wonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



> Happy holidays :)

Now, Dick wouldn’t say he had always expected to cross the Batman’s path. Sure, they operated in the same city in the same business—sort of—but the Bat was well-known for his dislike of the corrupt force patrolling this city. 

However, when Dick was called off an investigation into two drug-related killings because it brought him too close to one of the wealthy families of Gotham... Not like that left him much choice, did it? He wasn’t going to just forget about those dead humans because his boss told him so. 

He worked most of the day, so it was only natural for Dick to head out in the night. And the crime had occurred in Crime Alley, deep in the Batman’s territory, so that was where he went, intent on gathering evidence. It seemed like someone else had had the same idea, for he found the Batman involved in a fight with seven gang members, all of which were visibly carrying knives. 

Without hesitation, Dick jumped into the fray, taking out one man with a sharp hit to the neck, immediately whirling around to block the advance of another with his forearm. If the Batman was surprised to see him there, he didn’t show it. In fact, he didn’t react at all beyond once shouting “Behind you!” to warn his impromptu partner. 

Dick’s training in the circus and, later, as a member of the Navy came handy. Between them, they made short work of the men. 

Okay, so the Bat would’ve probably been fine on his own. But what was Dick supposed to? Hide and watch? No, sir, that wasn’t why he was doing this.

“Are you following up on the murder of Ritchie Everett and Maya Hibbert?” he asked while they tied up the unconscious men. 

“And Sky Weston.” The Batman’s voice was low, growly. Probably using a voice distortion device. “I found their body two hours ago.” 

Dick winced. Fuck. That had been the exact thing he’d been trying to prevent. 

“Any evidence tying them to these idiots here?” 

There was a pause. Then: “You will find some.” 

Somehow, Dick suspected that didn’t mean his crime techs would. What were the odds that there would be a neat package on his desk in the morning? 

Ah, Gotham. Why do anything the conventional way?

“Okay, thanks.” 

There was a rustling sound behind him. When Dick stood up, he fully expected to be alone. 

However, the Batman was still there, standing in the window, the moonlight casting dramatic shadows. “You did not have to do this.” 

Dick just knew the eyes behind the lenses were trained on him. Still, he couldn’t help but grin, adrenaline still rushing through his synapses. “Just helping an unarmed citizen being accosted by miscreants.” 

There was something that could almost be called a smile on the other man’s face. “Ever think about becoming a vigilante? You certainly have the skillset.” 

Dick almost preened at that. “Nah. I like being a cop, even if it occasionally needs _this_.”

“You don’t find yourself… limited?”

“If by that you mean that we’re corrupt, violent, and equipped like an army without any of the training—yeah, I do..” 

Dick felt the weight of that gaze return to him.“Why are you still with them, then?” 

“You cannot leave the police to the assholes,” Dick shrugged, and that was that. 

They had been partners for years now. The Batman had guided Dick toward those policemen he knew not to be too corrupted yet, and Dick, in turn, had proven to be quite inventive when it came to establishing vigilante-related chains of evidence. 

In time, the Batman had become more… human. The grimaces he pulled at Dick’s bad puns never failed to delight Dick. He had a snarky sense of humor, too. Dick might not know the face behind the mask, but he knew the man—and he was the most courageous, self-sacrificial, stubborn, honorable person Dick had ever met. 

There was no one else he trusted this much, Dick realized with a pang. No one else he looked forward to seeing, no one else he wanted to spend time with like this or in any capacity they would give him. 

It was stupid, of course. There was no way that was ever happening. So Dick tried to be content with had he had, their comfortable routine, the way his loneliness eased but never abated. It was fine. It was all fine. 

Until the morning he found a golden envelope on his desk at the station. 

“An invitation to a Wayne gala?” Dick was incredulous. “And it’s tonight?” 

“Yeah, Wayne does that.” His partner, Maeve, shrugged. “When there’re spots to fill, he invites the officers that have been most involved in the community, or something. Someone must’ve put in a good word for you.” 

There were some glares from around the office, but less than Dick would’ve expected. 

“Am I expected to go?” 

Maeve’s eyes widened. “Hell yeah, you are. And why wouldn’t you?” 

“Wayne’s famous for his parties—and the supermodels attending them,” Frank chimed in from the desk behind them. ”You lucky dog.” 

Dick just sighed. Yay. And here he had been looking forward to a quiet evening of hunting criminals with Gotham’s most notorious vigilante. 

Ah, well. He’d just put in a few hours at the gala, and then he’d head out to the rooftops. Batman would just have to wait. 

Dick had thought he was prepared for a Wayne gala. He wasn’t. 

Literally everyone here was either beautiful, rich, or both. It made him want to hide in the chandeliers. There were diamonds _everywhere_. How the hell did these people keep Catwoman from just robbing them blind? Or did they not even notice a necklace or two missing because they had so many? 

Dick thought down at his slacks and blue shirt in dismay. In the mirror at home, the combo had looked quite fetching. Now, he felt hopelessly underdressed. 

“Officer Grayson?” A tall, handsome man walked up to him, hand stretched out. 

Dick shook it, smiling politely. “I think you have the advantage of me.” 

The smile widened. Dick wasn’t sure, but he thought that was amusement in the other man’s eyes. “Of course, forgive me. I am Bruce Wayne. Call me Bruce.” 

Oh. Oooops. “Ah. Thank you for the invitation.” 

“It’s my pleasure. Thank you for your service.” 

God, Dick _hated_ it when people said that. “That’s just my job.”

“I—” But whatever Bruce had to say was interrupted by a gaggle of Very Important People waving him over. “Maybe we can chat later,” he suggested. 

“Sure,” Dick nodded, convinced that wouldn’t happen. 

“Make sure to try the tarte. Oh, and visit the balconies on the top floor. I’m sure you’d like them.” With that, Bruce was gone. 

Dick watched as he approached the group that had been waiting impatiently for him, shaking hands with the men and going as far as kissing the hand of the one woman. 

It was weird. He’d have expected Bruce to be more like the image he projected in the magazines—vapid, vain, superficial, drunk most of the time. 

But his eyes on Dick had been sharp. Dick could not forget the feeling of that gaze even as he milled around, making chit-chat with some guests and eating some the (genuinely delicious) tarte. 

Gradually, his feeling of being out of place faded. Everyone was very polite. Some even seemed genuinely interested in his work. Dick was having a nice evening until he wasn’t. 

“I’m sure your work must be fascinating,” a Miss Archer purred, her hand way too low on his hip for someone he had met ten minutes ago. “How about a little reward for your… service?” 

Dick felt intensely uncomfortable. He knew he had developed the reputation of a flirt at the station, but that was just because a lot of men couldn’t fathom the idea of being friendly with a woman without being interested in her. Honestly, though, he wasn’t all that interested in sex outside of a relationship. 

Certainly not with someone who looked at him like he was for sale. 

“I think I have to go—” 

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, interrupting him mid-apology. “Ah, there you are.” 

Dick craned his neck at the newcomer, only to be greeted by the sight of Bruce Wayne smiling blandly at Miss Archer, then turning a much warmer smile to Dick. “I’m sorry I’m late. I know I promised to show you around.” 

“No worries.” Dick barely managed not to laugh at the look on Miss Archer’s face as she had no choice but to watch them leave. He felt much better now that her hand had moved away.

“I’m sorry for Shannan,” Bruce murmured. “I had her struck off the guest list months ago, but she seems to sneak her way in every time.” 

He steered them toward a balcony. Dick offered no resistance, curious to see where this might lead. With Bruce’s arm stretched out like this, he could see that he packed some serious muscle underneath the suit. 

After a brief walk through a sheer maze of corridors and beautifully decorated rooms, Bruce slid open a glass door. “After you.” 

Dick finally tore his gaze away from Bruce and stepped outside, and oh. Yes. That view was gorgeous. The city stretched out beneath them, glittering and dark at the same time. This high up, you couldn’t see all the misery. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Bruce had stepped up beside him. 

Dick nodded. “Thanks for showing me.” 

Bruce turned and set down his champagne flute on the ledge behind him. “It’s not exactly a hardship to share a balcony with a beautiful young man.” 

His tone was openly flirtatious, which should’ve shocked Dick, except his mind was miles away, on a moonlit rooftop in Crime Alley. 

He knew that back, cape or not. 

Bruce Wayne. It made so much sense when you thought about it. All those gadgets Batman carried with him had to be specially developed and expensive as shit. Bruce’s history with violent crime was well documented. And he was the right age, too. Batman had appeared when Bruce was in his early twenties, almost fifteen years ago now. 

“…you’re Batman.” 

Bruce froze, then turned around to face Dick with a self-deprecating smile on his face. “Guilty as charged, officer.”

Suddenly, a lot more about this set-up made sense. 

“You… would have told me?”

“I was wondering if you’d figure it out yourself before I could, but yes,” Bruce admitted. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

Dick couldn’t express in words what this meant to him—that the Batman, the most paranoid, security-conscious person he knew, was willing to reveal his identity to him. 

So he didn’t say anything, just wound his arms around Bruce’s neck and kissed him. 

There was a sharp inhale against his lips, but Bruce did not hesitate to kiss him back. He was gathered against a broad chest immediately, those large, calloused hands (and how had no one noticed that a millionaire playboy should not have those hands?) gripping his waist and cradling the back of his head, respectively. It felt like being surrounded, being protected and cherished and _flying_. 

For minutes, there was no sound on the balcony except their heavy breaths as their lips found each other’s again and again, neither willing to draw apart. 

When Dick finally moved back an inch and opened his eyes, his arms did not want to stop holding Bruce. The older man seemed similarly unwilling to let go, resting their foreheads together, a look of wonder on his face. 

Dick whispered: “That was okay, right?” 

“You’re my partner,” Bruce said simply. His blue eyes were both the iciest and warmest Dick had ever seen. 

Suddenly, Dick giggled. “You know, I wondered about your eye color a lot.” 

“You and most of Arkham.” 

“Yes, but that’s decidedly less romantic to think about.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce lifted a hand in playful surrender. “Do my eyes hold up to your speculations, then?” 

“Hmmm.” Dick tilted his head to the side. “I think I’m going to have to see them more often. You know, to really be able to judge.” 

“That can be arranged,” Bruce whispered, before kissing him again. 

Maybe, Dick thought as he lost himself in the feeling, his feelings for the Batman weren’t so stupid, after all. 


End file.
